


Only Fools Rush In

by nichestars



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Bad Puns, Fluff, Getting Together, Innuendo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-28 13:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8447887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nichestars/pseuds/nichestars
Summary: No matter how many people he meets, Luke finds himself scanning the room for a familiar slump of shoulders, shock of tousled brown hair, and the brooding company of Chewbacca. He'd been afraid that Han might make good on his promise to leave, after the ceremony, but it's been a week and their medals are glittery with the humidity of Yavin and Han hasn't yet gone anywhere that Luke can't follow.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [culturevulture73](https://archiveofourown.org/users/culturevulture73/gifts).



> Prompt: "Han/Luke: Like my first request, I'll be happy with any story. I'd love when they got together, when Leia found out, when Chewie, Lando, Wedge or anyone else finds out."
> 
> Dear culturevulture73, I was so excited to get your prompts for rarepair, and I hope you enjoy what I've written -- I certainly enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Thanks to the kind friends who beta-ed this for me (I'll add the names after the reveal just to keep up the secrecy!). Your time and help are appreciated as always, and made this immeasurably better. 
> 
> Title is from "Can't Help Falling In Love." This is _absolutely_ that schmoopy, you guys.
> 
> This takes place between A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back.

Luke isn't entirely sure why he turns down Wedge's offer to share his quarters. Technically he doesn't turn Wedge down, he just explains apologetically that he's _kind of in a hurry and he'll think about it, it's awfully nice of you though!_

And then he goes off to find Han, again.

It seems like ever since he walked into the cantina in Mos Eisley he's been following Han around one way or another, and here on Yavin it's no different. 

There's a deluge of introductions in the days after the Death Star. Leia has to show him off to all the generals and their aides, and he gets to meet Mon Mothma, _the_ Mon Mothma. Then there are the secondary commanders and lieutenants and countless people he doesn't quite know how to classify when it comes to rank, including an Intel officer with a kind face who runs recruitment, who in turn introduces him to an infantry sergeant, who happens to be married to one of the pilots who flew the Death Star mission. She's the only a-wing pilot to have made it back, and Luke immediately feels a twinge of solidarity, of _connection_ , with her. She shakes his hand, and her fingers are shorter than his but firm and steady. "You ever need another pilot..." she says, and jerks her chin. "It was an honor to be up there with you."

Honestly, Luke thinks it was an honor for _him_ to be up there with pilots like Shara. She used to fly transports for the Empire, before she got recruited, and now she takes out those same imperial ships nearly every day. 

But no matter how many people he meets, Luke finds himself scanning the room for a familiar slump of shoulders, shock of tousled brown hair, and the brooding company of Chewbacca. 

He'd been afraid that Han might make good on his promise to leave, after the ceremony, but it's been a week and their medals are glittery with the humidity of Yavin and Han hasn't yet gone anywhere that Luke can't follow.

Han's always busy, sure -- swapping stories with the commissary officer as he and Chewie haggle for extra hot cocoa packets, or showing Wedge how to hotwire the auxiliary thrusters of his x-wing -- but he never minds Luke tagging along. 

Leia gripes about it, when she's been looking for Luke to join her on some high-level briefing, or once an officers' dinner (that Luke did honestly forget about), and instead finds him elbow deep in grease laughing at Han's latest recounting of a pod race he saw ten years ago. But more often than not, she'll end up perched on the nearest crate, swinging her heels and pursing her lips against laughter that matches Luke's. 

At night, Han and Chewie play dejarik on the Falcon and tinker with her interior, minor repairs that seem to serve as a comfort to Han more than anything else. Luke supposes he could join the other pilots, drinking and socializing out in one of the several nearby Yavin settlements -- Wedge and Shara have both invited him multiple times -- but he's always been a little wrongfooted in large crowds. He feels more at ease tucked into the corner of the Falcon's lounge, watching Han rub his face and pretend he's not letting Chewie win yet another round. 

It's why he turns Wedge down, really. He can't imagine that the rebellion -- formerly Imperial -- issue fold-away cots are any more comfortable than the bunks on the Falcon, and Han doesn't seem to mind him sticking close. 

Anyway, Han's the one who best understands what it meant to lose Old Ben, and why Luke still doesn't feel right over it. 

It isn't just Ben, either. Luke never got a chance to properly grieve for his aunt and uncle, or for what was left, smouldering, of their life together. Somehow all the bone-deep weariness of that sorrow has curled up around the loss of Ben in his heart. Some nights it feels like a physical weight, clanging around against his ribs.

He dreams of the farm burning, sweat sticky and cold at the small of his back when he sits up in bed.

It's another reason that spending nights on the Falcon seems immeasurably easier than sharing a room with a relative stranger, no matter how friendly Wedge has been. If anyone’s going to hear him wake up screaming, Luke would prefer it to be Han or Chewie. Neither of them will say anything in the morning, other than Han asking if he wants _a mug of caf, kid? You got bags under your eyes and no princess wants to see that._

"You don't have to follow him around all day," Leia says. Luke knows that what she means is, _you could sit in on all my important meetings with Mon and talk politics and tactics and all the other -ics until your eyes melt out of your skull from boredom_. Luke knows what she means is, _people think it's strange that you tag along after him like a lost puppy_. 

More than anything, Luke knows she means, _people just think_ you're _strange_. 

Maybe the fact that he knows all of it without her saying is proof enough that people are right.

"At least have dinner with me tonight," Leia says, and Luke follows the string tugging in his guts that won't let him say no to her.

::

He's telling a rambling story about the time he found a nest of squeebits in the filter chamber of an evaporator, and he's just realized how boring this must be to Han Solo, adventuring smuggler, when he notices it.

Just for a moment, Han is looking over at him, and all he says is, "and you didn't have the heart to move 'em, did you kid?" 

Luke can’t help but feel, in that moment, that every molecule of Han is straining towards him.

It makes him dizzy, leaves him reeling, confused and blinking dumbly. 

Han was right, anyhow. He hadn't moved the squeebits.

::

“Hey kid,” Han says, “hand me that converter, huh?” 

Luke scans the bucket of parts and gears at his feet and sets down his holopad. He has to dig for a minute, but he finds what he _assumes_ is the piece Han is looking for, and hands it over. Han mumbles his thanks and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, smearing grease above his eyebrow, and Luke’s readings about the pre-Empire politics of Dantooine suddenly seem far less interesting. 

_You look like a faulty droid spit up on you,_ Chewbacca laughs, crouching beside Luke and shaking his head at Han. 

Han grimaces at him. “You would know!”

Chewbacca just chuckles, deep and reverberating in his chest. Luke can feel it through their shoulders, pressed together, and laughs along.

“Oh, you think this is funny too,” Han rolls his eyes, and wipes at his forehead again. It does nothing to solve the problem. 

Luke wants to take his stupid dirty face in both hands and kiss him until they can’t breathe, and the wave of longing hits him in the ribs, turns his laughter into choking. 

Chewbacca pounds him on the back as he hugs his knees and tries to catch his breath. 

For a moment, Han sets down his soldering iron and looks concerned. “You alright there, Luke?” 

“Fine,” Luke gasps. 

Han pats his ankle with one sturdy hand and nods. “You should be careful, laugh that hard and Chewie here’ll get a big head, think he’s actually funny.” 

_I’m funnier than you,_ Chewie shrugs, and looks between Han and Luke, shakes his head. _At least I can see a punchline when it’s going to hit me in the face._

“See, now he’s just talking nonsense,” Han huffs. “Wookiees. You save their life _one time_ and they subject you to their sense of humor for the rest of eternity.”

::

Luke gets the feeling he’s been brought here under false pretenses. Nobody’s in the drafty hangar but Han, bent over an exhaust port just beneath the Falcon’s cockpit. “Hey,” Luke calls, “Chewie said there was -- some sort of wiring… issue?” He’s pretty sure that’s what Chewbacca had said, anyway. He’s never mistranslated anything too badly before. 

Han wipes his hands on his pants and cocks his head at Luke. “Huh?” 

“Wiring?” Luke tries again, crossing his arms awkwardly. “I’m not really sure --” 

“Wiring,” Han repeats, and purses up his entire face. “No, nope, I think we’re good on the wiring. Must’a meant someone else. Not me.” 

_I said your wires are crossed, you should fix it,_ Chewbacca yowls, crossing the hangar and going up the Falcon’s ramp. _It was a metaphor, you useless humans._ He reemerges a moment later with his satchel, and shows his teeth at Han. Han growls right back at him, but looks slightly chagrined when he turns to Luke, shrugs. 

“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” he says.

It feels like cheating, to reach into the air around them, following the nervous energy in the Force, but Luke can’t quite control it, and it all leads back to Han. 

“I’m pretty good at wiring,” Luke says. “I could take a look, maybe?”

Han sets down his electrical tape and really looks at Luke, shakes his head. “I dunno, kid, it’s all -- old, and faulty, probably better if you don’t -- mess with anything.”

“I think it cleans up pretty good,” Luke tells him. 

They’ve been walking closer, and Luke’s so focused on the _feeling_ that it startles him when they actually touch: Han’s boot nudging the toe of his own. There’s a smudge of grease across Han’s knuckles, and Luke reaches out to brush it off with his thumb.

“Sorry,” he says, belatedly. “What were we…?”

“Aw, hell,” Han says, and kisses him, knocking Luke back on his heels and catching him by the elbows, holding him steady. 

It’s like the very first ray of light coming up over the rim of the desert, everything turning pink, and warm, and real, and Luke nudges his nose up against Han’s and kisses him back until neither of them can breathe. 

Han leans back but keeps his hold on Luke’s jacket. His mouth looks very red. 

“Well, that wasn’t _terrible_ ,” Han says, “was it?”

“Oh, shut up,” Luke says, narrowing his eyes. “You can do better than that.”

::

Luke half-expected Han to fall asleep afterwards. Instead, he’s tucked warm and solid and very much awake against Luke’s back in the bunk, one hand drawing slow circles over Luke’s hipbone. “Gonna stick together if we don’t clean up soon,” he says, soft into the back of Luke’s hair. 

“I don’t care,” Luke shrugs. “Do you?”

Han’s mouth is warm, warm, warm, against Luke’s shoulder. 

They stay in bed.

::

“Hey,” Han says, peering around the corner of the Falcon’s fresher. 

Luke looks up from the buttons of his flightsuit. “Yeah?”

“You know I don’t mind you hanging around, Skywalker.” 

Luke grins, leaning against the frame of the door and kicking his heel at the paneling. “Are you kidding? This thing’s a piece of junk. The wiring might be okay, but your spark plugs are a disaster, Solo. You need _someone_ around to take care of it for you.”


End file.
